


the physics of falling in love

by ronnieboo



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, High School Musical References, Implied Sexual Content, Keith (Voltron) is a Mess, Mostly Fluff, Multi, Romellura, Teacher AU, a bit of angst?, adashi, bit of a slowburn, broganes, gasp they all work at the same place, keith is a physics teacher, klance, lance is a flirty mess, lance is his boss, mostly - Freeform, romelle is a kindergarten teacher, they are all consenting adults, they meet at a bar
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-01-07
Packaged: 2019-10-03 05:14:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17277728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ronnieboo/pseuds/ronnieboo
Summary: “Lance? Lance McClain? Heh, I can´t believe you´d actually forget my name,” He breathes out. That one smile he flashes him—all dimples and unbothered joy—would one day be Keith´s unbecoming. Lance closes the gap between them until he´s barely inches away, and Keith can see in his freckled face why he didn´t spare a second thought when allowing this boy inside his place. “You took advantage of me last night, remember? New boy in town, mad dancing skills… Ah, although I can´t blame you, I am gorgeous,”





	the physics of falling in love

**Author's Note:**

> a bit of a teacher au i´ve had in mind for a long, long time. my writing skills are a little bit rusty, so i hope you´ll like this sort of guilty pleasure fic i´ve been cooking up. 
> 
> obviously, their first encounter was inspired by meredith´s and derek´s first meeting, without the, uh, other context. sue me. my grey´s anatomy days are over, but this one moment stayed.

He´s naked. Gloriously, freckled, caramel skin naked; and Keith is, well, also naked and so, _so_ screwed. The boy is draped with a blanket from the curve of his ass to his feet, but really, the scratches and the hickeys aren´t quite helping Keith´s case of “what-the-fuck-happened-last-night”. There is a boy _asleep_ on his living room´s floor, and _oh boy_ it must have been an adventure, because Keith only remembers one too many shots of tequila and Highschool Musical Night.

On a _Sunday_.

What sort of responsible _adult_ goes clubbing on a Sunday night and brings home some random, _gorgeous_ dude and doesn´t even make it to—

That´s not even supposed to be the worst of his problems. _Priorities, Keith_.

Well, there´s nothing he can do about that, other than make up some excuse about why he´s late to his first day as a teacher at UA—only one of the most prestigious universities in the country. It´s not like his boss could murder him with her bare hands. _J_ _ust peachy,_ an everyday situation. No need to panic, either, just tip toe through the living room as to not wake up said human being; Keith might just be on his way soon enough without having to talk to him, God help him. He grabs some painkillers from the kitchen, downs a glass of water and sparing a suspicious stare to the snoring boy, makes his way to the tiny bathroom as fast as he can.

“Ok,” He wheezes. The water runs even colder than most mornings, he´s out of shampoo and, apparently, out of luck too. “It´s ok, nothing to worry about. He will be gone by the time I step out of this shower,”

He finishes his business in record time.

Turns out the Gods just happened to be on vacation. As soon as he steps out of the bathroom all sporting a white button-up and his hair dripping wet, _it happens_. A yelp comes from the kitchen, followed by a loud _thud_ and curses muttered in… Spanish? So it´s not a hallucination. Keith rushes to the scene to find the boy crouched on the floor right between a mess of cereal boxes. He´s about to turn back and pretend he didn´t see anything when the guy looks up and fixes him with water-blue eyes and an accusing index finger.

“You,” He says, his voice is still raspy and sleepy, dripping on accusatory; and  _yep_ , those might just be Keith´s boxers. “Really? Cereal and no milk? What kind of savage are you?”

“What? I just… Happen to be out of milk?”

“Man, there´s nothing on your fridge, are you one of those guys with messed up diets or—”

“Can you? Not? Maybe?” Keith pleads with his hands up, defeated. He pushes the boy away and picks up the fallen boxes, neatly setting them on top of the counter. “Look, I’m really late for work, and I can´t deal with you right now, uhm, erm…”

Freckled boy very obviously has a name, of course. A name that did not register in Keith´s mind last night, or, _ever_. He´s not nearly as embarrassed as he should be, considering his situation, but feels his face heat up from his cheeks to the tip of his ears nonetheless. The silence is _super_ awkward, but Keith is not about to acknowledge his one slip up, _especially_ if it means the stranger will get mad enough to storm out of the apartment. Better yet: Keith could run away while he still can, yeah? His legs aren´t functioning, though, and he´s left there standing, fists balled at his sides and _refusing_ eye contact, all while the beautiful boy laughs his heart out for at least thirty seconds straight. He then proceeds to make a show out of wiping fake tears from his eyes.

“Lance? Lance McClain? Heh, I can´t believe you´d actually forget my name,” He breathes out. That one smile he flashes him—all dimples and unbothered joy—would one day be Keith´s unbecoming. _Lance_ closes the gap between them until he´s barely inches away, and Keith can see in his freckled face why he didn´t spare a second thought when allowing this boy inside his place. “You took advantage of me last night, remember? New boy in town, mad dancing skills… Ah, although I can´t blame you, I _am_ gorgeous,”

“Oh, really? Hmn, I believe you were the one taking advantage of _me_ , McClain,” He narrows the gap even further, and why, pray tell, is he giving in? This is absolutely _not_ the time to be having second thoughts. You know, given he´s already late why not make a grand entrance? Twenty minutes would be enough for a little bit of— “Approaching the boy minding his own damn business, singing that High School whatever crap…”

“Excuse you, High School Musical, and you _sang_ with me, Kogane. Only the cheesiest songs from the franchise,” He winks. “Not exactly The Voice material, but I gave you a pass because you´re cute,”

Dear lord it was _more than one song._ Note to self: steer clear from alcohol for the following weeks. Or months. Maybe a year.

Then again, that thing in his chest might have been a heart attack, so Keith decides he´s had enough of _this_. He makes some air gestures that don´t quite mean anything, but Lance takes it as a sure sign of victory and wiggles his eyebrows in a very stupid, very childish, _very_ adorable way.

There´s no way he´s ever meeting Lance again; the odds are so slim its almost laughable, so yeah, no need to get involved any further.

“Well I,” Keith cuts him, stabbing Lance on the chest with his index finger and his meanest stare. Lance staggers backwards. “Am late to work, and I don´t want Allura to kill me on my first fucking day.”

He makes a beeline to the living room and finally gets to admire the mess. Cushions strewn haphazardly across the floor, two used condoms that never made it to the trashcan, a couple of suspicious-looking stains on the couch and The Blanket. At least his bag is safely resting against the TV table. He makes a grab for it (its contents are also safe), all the while feeling Lance´s eyes on his back, and he´s not sure whether he wants to punch his lights out or—nope. He´s not about to let his mind wander off to dangerous places.

“Uh, feel free to use the bathroom, I guess? Leave the door closed once you get out, and don´t touch the cereal. Also, get the _fuck_ out of my boxers,” He says. “It was nice meeting you?”

“Very nice indeed,” Oh, Keith is _totally_ imagining the syrupy edge to Lance´s voice and the way he perks up like he _knows_ something. It creeps him out. Lance saunters off to where he´s standing and places a peck on his lips. Like it´s the only _natural_ thing to do. “See ya later, Keith,”

Speechless, Keith shuts the door on Lance´s face and flies down the stairs instead of taking the elevator _._ His bike is parked in front of the apartment complex and he wastes no time putting on his helmet and running the engine. Buildings rush past him as he speeds down the streets, and hopefully the ringing in his ears will be enough to rid him of the blushing and the emotions and the sudden emptiness in his gut.

* * *

 

He doesn´t have any morning lessons on Mondays, as he´s quick to realize after a second, thorough reading of his schedule, but Keith _was_ supposed to be at UA on time for morning assembly. He finds Adam greeting new (and late) students outside of the gates with that welcoming aura of his, but he´s _also_ handing out late passes without a word, so, excellent. A familiar face right before inevitable doom befalls upon him.

“Keith!” He waves for him to come over, and Keith trots the remaining distance between them. Racing downtown left him breathless and a little wound up. “Jeez, are you okay?”

“Yeah, rough night,” It´s not a lie. Half-truths have never hurt anyone… Right? Both Lance McClain and liquor can stay out of the equation.

“Well, you better get down to Allura´s office real quick,” Adam places a hand on his shoulder and squeezes—a very typical uncle move. It doesn´t make him feel any better. “She did the thing where she just _sighs_ , you know. Also make sure to tell Shiro the full story!”

Keith is about to flip him the bird when he remembers there are _students_ very close by. Adam seems to catch the not-gesture and shakes his head. Curse Shiro for teaching his husband the wisdom on how to read Keith. A bell rings; the perfect and final cue for Keith to sprint down the hallways with muttered curses, trying (and failing) not to attract attention. There´s this one girl snickering _quite_ loudly and whispering something to her friend, and no time at all to at least usher her to the classroom, and oh, damn it. He´s still not familiarized with the facilities, and it takes him eight extra minutes to find Allura´s office. 

A shiny badge reads _Vice-principal_. Keith knocks twice.

“Come in,”

No turning back now. No pretending an almost fatal crash on his way here, or a call from a distant relative in their deathbed, or a sudden _something_ coming up about, man, _whatever_. Keith´s never been good at making up excuses anyways; he might as well just wing it. And winging it, no plans at all, is _not_ his thing.

He pries the door open with his hands, and the creaking noise it makes is so movie like he´s tempted to turn tail and pretend he was never admitted to UA. However, once he takes the first step inside Allura´s office he realizes it´s not as witchy and scary as he´d imagined, but more like the smell of chai tea and flowers, family pictures all over her table, and the whirr of the A/C and the constant tapping of her fingers against her laptop´s keyboard.

“Uh, hello—I mean, good morning, Vice principal Allura,” He greets. She says nothing in return and just barely raises her eyes to meet his. Keith catches a glimpse of something very powerful, _very_ commanding in her stare, and he knows that in a different time she might have been a queen, an empress or a goddess. “I apologize for being here so late, I, um. Things happened and—”

“Just Allura is okay, Keith. Now, I´m going to have to stop you right there,” She motions for him to sit down in one of the two heavily cushioned chairs in front of the table, but she doesn´t look at him. Are students supposed to feel like they´re in a flower shop when they´re about to get suspended? “I am not sure I want to hear the rest of that story. _Do_ know that I will not tolerate this a second time,”

Oh man, does she know? Is he actually in trouble? She goes back to typing with her perfectly manicured nails all the while Keith´s ass stays glued to the chair. This can´t be it, right? This is not how things go, like, ever; and Shiro _totally_ told him that this white-haired badass woman would eat him alive in a split second, but this? He can´t tell which is worse. He clears his throat and feels like a little kid waiting for his parents to give him permission to leave the room. Allura, however, remains unfazed.

“I´m sorry, I need to finish some paperwork. We´re getting a new head of the astrophysics department, and I have lots to do. Hm… You´re our new physics teacher, right? You´ll get to meet him later,” Allura explains. “Look, I´m giving you a free pass because you don´t have morning lessons on Mondays and it _is_ your first day. But Coran and I do need all the staff to be here early to arrange the daily schedule, okay?”

“Yes, ma´am,”

“Also, we have a groupchat, you know, in case an emergency comes up you can tell us right away. I´ll ask Coran to add you once he´s done with the conference,”

Groupchats. Ugh. He nods, however, not willing to miss important information because of his pure hatred for groupchats.

“Go on,” She waves her hand towards the door. Neat. He´s being shushed out. “I trust you have everything you need?”

“Ah, yes,” He means to stand up quickly and ends up fumbling with the strap of his bag. Allura hides her chirping laughter behind her hand. “Thank you, Allura. I promise this won´t happen again,”

Allura nods her head and motions for him to leave. The meeting is over, and Keith comes out victorious, or at least that´s how it feels. He can officially start his first day as a teacher at Altea University, whose prestige has been steadily growing over the past seven years. Misadventures aside, this might just be a good First Day. Now, since he´s obviously not about to ask for directions, let alone knock _again_ on Allura´s door, because _duh_ , he´s a responsible adult (yeah, right), Keith navigates his way through the huge buildings using only the scraps he remembers from Shiro´s tour. A tour that took place one week ago.

Only now does Keith realize how huge of a mess he is and thinks that _maybe_ the CV the University got wasn´t his but one with a similar face, name and profession. They dialed the wrong number and what a coincidence, Keith happened to be a teacher seeking a job opportunity.

“Room 302B,” He mutters under his breath. “Third floor, probably,”

This time it doesn´t take Keith as long to find his classroom, so he gets to settle with plenty of spare time to arrange his stuff; his laptop on one side, red and blue markers close by and paper sheets for the first set of exercises of the day. He finishes by scribbling his name on the blackboard with a pretty decent attempt at proper handwriting. Two minutes later the bell does that hideous thing and rings longer than necessary. How many students sleeping between classes did it take for the bell to be _this_ annoying?

Students file in one by one, chatting about midterms and chemistry labs and their weekend plans. They don´t notice Keith at first but when they do it is with surprise and some blushing faces, and Keith can only wonder what their last physics teacher was like, for him to illicit such reactions. He waits for them to sit down and take out their notebooks and laptops. A girl on the far end of the classroom has a huge portion of her desk consisting of bright, neon highlighters. Adam used to be like that when he first started dating Shiro in college.

Five minutes in and he takes two strides towards the door, closes it with an air of finality and goes back to at least thirty sets of eyes staring at him.

“Good day, class. I´m professor Kogane and I´ll be your physics teacher from now on,” Introductions aren´t exactly his forte. He hopes his voice was professional enough to fool the students into thinking he has his shit together. “First, I expect you to be here on time. Once the door closes you cannot come in, go wander around the campus and catch up later with your friends. However, material will always be available at my office,”

Guilt creeps up his spine. Keith Kogane, the boy who was late to his first day, demanding his students to be on time, however, tardiness was against most things the Blades stood for, and being a recent graduate, yeah, one can imagine. Honestly, he doesn´t intend to be _that_ strict, but—he doesn’t know these kids at all, and really, he´s not sure he´s even _making_ the right decisions. Oh well.

“As long as it doesn´t disrupt my teaching and your colleagues learning, you can do as you please,” He says. The class remains dead silent. “I am mostly willing to help you kids out, but I do need you to cooperate a bit,”

He sighs. How bad can a human be at first impressions?

“Can we know your full name?” The boy raises his hand and waves it to catch Keith´s attention and he´s finally able to release some tension from his shoulders.

“Uh, Keith. I don´t particularly care about formalities, but I believe my superiors won´t appreciate that,” He scratches the back of his head. “I´m not sure if other teachers even do that, though. How about this? You all give me your name, pronouns, and… I don´t know? Zodiac sign or whatever,” And with all due seriousness— “Also your favorite conspiracy theory,”

A few moments later laughter erupts and Keith´s ears burn pink. He could be wrong, but two girls might just have called him dumb. However, the atmosphere does ease a little bit, enough for Keith to breathe in and out and give the opportunity to those with their hands raised to speak. They all talk, even the shier ones; they talk about being a scorpio or a pisces and about their love for Harry Potter or the Legally Blonde movies. Only some of them admit to sharing a passion for conspiracy theories and in rather hushed voices talk about aliens and Britney Spears and Avril Lavigne´s death and clone replacement. Keith in turn tells them about mothman and a few of his favorite artists.

By the time they´re finished, only half an hour remains, and when Keith announces that they are, in fact, about to review some of the basics for this year it is to groaning and pleas that he receives with a little smirk. Soon enough the blackboard is full of scribbling and formulas and some tentative dates for tests and labs and the kids are _still_ groaning and threatening to dislike him _uh, forever_ , if he doesn´t go easy on them. _Easy my ass_ , Keith thinks. _Nope, no way._

They work surprisingly well, raising hands and asking pertinent questions. It makes Keith smile. 

The shitass annoying bell rings again and Keith curses out loud.

“You´re free to go,” They aren´t waiting for him to say that. Some of them are already dashing their way out of the classroom. Keith heaves a sigh.

He feels a new, hangover driven headache bloom on his temples. 

The whole thing didn´t completely suck. It was nice to be back in his element; numbers, physics, things he can handle and leave no room for second interpretations, unlike a _certain_ blue-eyed boy. Wow. He can´t even be sure _Lance_ really did leave his apartment. What is Keith going to do if he finds him there after his lessons are over? He´s not required to be in the classroom until 3 PM… Maybe a quick motorcycle ride back to his place just to be sure. Then again, does he _want_ to find out?

Since when are boys such a pain in the ass?

He stretches his arms over his head and surveys the empty classroom. Sunlight pours from the floor-to-ceiling windows, and Keith can´t help but think that he was lucky to be hired. It truly is a nice place, smartass students aside. They have a functioning coffee machine for his caffeine addicted heart (and Monday hangovers, but no need to mention that), decent wifi and a _huge_ lounge for the teachers to rest between their classes. That much he remembers from Shiro´s tour. He just can´t exactly pinpoint any of said places locations. They should use him as an example for the dictionary definition of _mess_.

Damn it.

There isn´t much to clean from the desk, so Keith is out of the classroom within minutes. Tons of students line the hallways in groups of threes and fours, chatting and waving and even saying _hi_ to him whenever their eyes meet. So maybe eighteen-year-old teenagers aren´t that horrible. He most definitely was a bit of a prick back on his freshman year of college, sue him for thinking the tendency remained. Keith is sure quite a few of them are meant to be somewhere inside a classroom or a lab right now, judging from the way they steal glances to their phones to check the hour or the fated text in case they need to bolt. 

He spots Shiro on the far end of the corridor, perking up at the sight of Keith scowling his way through the crowd, sticking close to the walls and holding on to his bag with a death grip. He has the nerve to _laugh_ and raise an eyebrow instead of using his Experienced Teacher Voice to demand they squish over to the other side and let Keith through.

“Glad you could make it!” Shiro waves him over, tackling him into a hug as soon as he´s close enough to do so. They´re not usually this touchy-feely, but it _has_ been a while since they last saw each other. “Heard Allura didn´t end your life on the spot,”

“Don´t remind me of that,” He sighs. “It was so embarrassing, walking in like that. I thought she might start shooting laser beams out of her eyes, but. She was actually very nice.”

“So it turned out alright, didn´t it?”

“Yeah, it did,” Keith grits out. Options flash through his mind and four out of five involve _not_ telling his _brother_ , for God´s sake, about last night´s little stunt. If _Adam_ was sharp enough to tell something had happened, then Shiro very much obviously already knew the gist of it. “She warned me she would not tolerate this a second time. It´s just, you know. Stuff happens,”

Shiro eyes him warily. He opens his mouth to speak—he´s never been the kind of sibling to pry away whatever answers he might need, but Keith _is_ doing that thing with his burrowed brows and the not-subtle pouting; all signs he kind of maybe does want to tell Shiro about his wild nightly adventures (that sounds even more terrible) but doesn´t want to _admit_ to his need of venting. And because Shiro understands him like no one does, he doesn´t push him to talk and instead pats his back hard enough to make Keith stumble.

“Come on,” He says. The noise has died down and only a few students remain. Shri drags him down the corridor. “Let´s go to the cafeteria. We can hook you up to some nice black coffee. No milk,”

“Shiro,” Keith sighs. “Do you think I´m dumb enough to order something milk-related?”

“Yes,” Shiro deadpans, and much to Keith´s protests and growling hooks an arm through his elbow and _tugs_ without a care in the world, knowing very well Keith will be forced to follow.

This time Keith does the maximum effort to remember the twists and turns they take in order to reach the first floor, but it turns the cafeteria is smack in the middle of the two main buildings of Altea University, an _inmense_ courtyard big enough to put a football field to shame. Students mile around, however, it´s mostly teachers hanging out during their breaks.

Keith feels a little embarrassed to have missed this big ass good-smelling thing during the initial tour. Lance was right about the empty fridge, and this place looks good enough to serve as his new breakfast provider.

They find a seat by a massive tree with enough shade to forget about the crazy hot September days. Shiro wanders off to get them some coffee (it is never too hot for coffee) and the revered muffins from the UA outdoor cafeteria. Keith once read an article gushing about them, during his initial university scout, and to this day he doesn´t know whether such a post was a joke or not.

Shiro comes back with a tray carrying their drinks and blueberry muffins and the smell is so amazing that Keith is forcefully reminded that he didn´t have any breakfast this morning. Stupid Lance McClain. Keith is hellbent on forgetting about him, as he does with every single hot guy (but never as hot and _cute_ as that darned McClain) he meets at shady bars. So far, he´s only managed to get riled up thinking about him. Mission failed.

While Shiro might be able to down his coffee in one go, Keith needs to pour one, maybe two packets of sugar before attempting to take a first sip. His days of pretending to like plain black coffee—like _men_ , he used to argue— are over.

“Okay,” He begins, taking a sip from the scalding-hot beverage. He curses under his breath. “I did something last night.”

“Oh boy,” Shiro says, mock-fear clouding his eyes. Curse the bastard. “That´s a first for you!”

“Shut up,” Keith sends him a piercing death glare, but he´s never been good at threatening his brother. “I went to a bar, probably because I was nervous about today. And then I drank a huge lot of tequila and woke up this morning to a boy snoring on my couch. Scratch that. He passed out on my  _floor_. And I can´t remember the stuff that happened in between. We had sex, obviously, but? You _know_ I never bring guys home,”

“Because it´s messy and you don´t want to deal with them afterwards, I know,” Shiro regards him with his hands under his chin. Telepathy might not be an actual thing, but Shiro has a scary knack for reading him like a fucking book, at it is at times like these that Keith hates it a little bit. “But knowing you, there must have been a reason you ended up taking him home. Drunk Keith still has the ability to make _some_ rational decisions.”

“And bringing a random stranger to my apartment is rational?” Keith retorts. He´s not amused. “This isn´t _me_. I feel like—like a teenager all over. I can´t get him out of my fucking mind!”

“Don´t beat yourself up over this. Be patient. I´m sure things will work out,”

“This is stupid,”

“All I´m saying _is_ ,” He continues, using that big brother voice that´s not quite stern, or angry, or exasperated. “Clear your head and let it do its own thing. However, Allura is right. Please don´t go out drinking when you have to work the next day. Please?”

“Fine. Whatever,” Keith gulps the last of his coffee and bites on the rest of the glorious muffin. “Speaking of. Allura said I´d meet the new head of the astrophysics department? I´d rather leave a good impression first, so I don´t bump into him when I´m trying to be an asshole to someone else,”

“Well then, if you put it like that,” Shiro sighs. “Follow me,”

They stand up and dump the empty cups on a nearby trashcan. Keith is tempted to stay by the comfortable shade of the tree and just… Not face his adult problems. The astrophysics teacher can wait. Lance McClain, wherever he is, _can_ wait, and hopefully disappear from his mind, but certain _memories_ begin to tug at the back of his mind; sweet moaning, hands exploring all the way down to his hips, and then lower—Jesus. Keith needs to get his shit together before his head explodes. _This_ is why he doesn´t stick long enough with his one-night stands. God forbid he gets _attached_ to people he´s never going to see again. Nope. Out of the question. Shiro waves a hand in front of his face, raises an eyebrow, but doesn´t say anything. Keith trails after him.

There´s a small building dedicated to the science departments. Shiro is more on the administration side of the university but _everyone_ knows him, so Keith is more or less forced to shuffle around while Shiro is greeted by god knows who, and he knows he should be making mental notes on the names of these people because, duh, he´s bound to spend time with them at some point and making friends doesn’t sound like an awful idea. Science nerds hang out together, right? Does Keith even qualify as a science nerd?

Oh, fuck it. Keith does his best effort to smile when he´s introduced as the new physics teacher, muttering out some cliché lines about being excited to meet his colleagues and whatever. Which he  _is_ , but this isn´t exactly the right moment for his best behavior. He´s exhausted. The liquor is still somewhere pooling in his stomach, and the feeling of Lance´s lips on his skin is still fresh. Tomorrow he will introduce himself again, politely if possible. Today? Today Keith isn´t even sure he´s _existing_ at all.

“And here we go,” Shiro´s voice snaps him out of his trance. No one seems to have noticed the _weirdness_ radiating off him, so maybe he did manage to pose as a professional teacher, willing and ready to begin his new life at UA. “The astrophysics department. We just hired the new head teacher, so he´s still settling in. He´s, uh. Chatty, but a good person and incredibly smart,”

It´s a half warning. A “you´re a grownup so keep your shit together and don´t fuck it up” kind of statement, but also Shiro´s own way to make sure he´s ready, because Keith and chatty don´t mix well.

“Breezy.”

“I have to go. Coran scheduled a meeting for my team, and I gotta be there in ten minutes,” He says. “Will you be alright?”

“Yeah,” Keith waves him off. “I´ll be fine.”

“Okay,” Shiro gives him a worried look, but then he´s off to tend to his Responsible Adult duties without a second glance. The last he sees of Shiro is him high-fiving a coworker before disappearing through the doors.

After the not-so-fiasco that was his meeting with Allura, Keith figures he shouldn´t be _this_ nervous to meet the head of department. Maybe the guy´s office will smell like something sweet, like Allura´s, and they´ll joke about Einstein and the laws of gravity or whatever—not like Keith knows any physics jokes, for that matter— but he might just be able to brush it off with some well timed laughter. Or _maybe_ he´ll turn out to be a massive asshole, Dick McDickinson if you may, the greatest douche in the history of douches. And for Keith there´s nothing worse than having to suck up to that kind of guys.

Ah, there´s also a slim chance Keith is looking far too much into it, but does it ever work like that?

His hand hesitates over the wooden door. No turning back now. He knocks, loud and clear, and lets his arm fall back to his side, adjusting the strap of the bag slung over his shoulder. Rattling sounds come from the inside, a high-pitched yelp and some stumbling. Keith raises an eyebrow.

“It´s open!” A voice calls. Why does it—

He pushes the door open with his foot.   

There´s nothing much to say about the office because it´s mostly empty save for the desk, a spinning chair and few open boxes—most likely the source of the rattling and considering the mess of books and supplies pooling into the carpeted floor. The Head of Department, Mr. Astrophysics himself, however, stands with is back to Keith, facing the open windows and stretching his arms.

Honestly? Keith should have seen it coming from the very first moment he took a step inside Altea University.

He´s not—naked. Obviously. But Keith can still remember the caramel of his skin and the way it catches the sun. Freckles dot the strip of skin just above the collar of his red shirt—the _loudest_ shade ever made—and his perfectly comber hair brushes the nape of his neck. He can recognize the lean, muscular built. The wide shoulders that lead to a slim waist (and if he can somehow feel ghost hands caressing the side of his face, his neck… it´s all in his imagination). When _Lance McClain_ turns around, to Keith´s horror, he can even see a _hickey_ peeking on his pulse point, quite decently covered with makeup. But it´s still there, and _Keith_ did that. _Oh boy._

“Keith!” Lance calls with a smile that could light up an entire Christmas tree. Make that _two_ Christmas trees. “Come on in. I´ve been waiting for you!”

And as Keith takes a step inside, he _knows_ he´s totally, completely, _utterly_ doomed.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you liked this! updates will take between one and one and a half weeks, hopefully. let me know what you think in the comments!
> 
> follow me on twitter @ronniellura !!  
> i love talking and interacting with moots :]


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